


slivers of orange-veined sclera

by syrupwit



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), M/M, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrupwit/pseuds/syrupwit
Summary: There was an eye in the center of Jon’s right palm.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40
Collections: Writing Rainbow Make Up Round, Writing Rainbow: Orange





	slivers of orange-veined sclera

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoreyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/gifts).



There was an eye in the center of Jon’s right palm. It was a normal eye with regard to size and shape, but the iris was a peculiar shade of yellow flecked with gold. Though Jon couldn’t see through it, he suspected it was only a matter of time. As Martin examined the eye, turning Jon’s hand this way and that, the pupil rolled to follow his movements. 

“It grew in last night,” Jon explained. “I woke up and it was there.” 

The eye blinked. It had long, stout lashes, paler than Jon’s own and almost vegetable in their lushness. He could feel the eyeball moving under the shivery lid. Jon had never liked looking at his own face, and he chanced to vanity even less after the scars his misadventures had inflicted; seeing this strange new thing in his skin, pulsing with alertness and hunger, he didn’t recognize what he felt. 

Martin traced the eye’s delicately bulging underside—even Jon’s fun new hand-eye had bags, what a joke—and glanced at Jon. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” Jon struggled to choose what to say. “It feels…good? Like it was meant to be there, or like it’s always been there somehow. Which, obviously that’s bad, but...”

His words hung in the air. Martin watched the eye, and it watched him back. 

“I think it’s lovely,” Martin decided. “Maybe that’s bad too, but I think all of you is lovely.” He gave Jon an encouraging smile. 

_ It isn’t me, _ Jon wanted to say, although he knew that was a lie. 

He let Martin take his hand again, press Jon’s fingers to his lips one by one. The eye regarded them both with mute patience. Jon met Martin’s mouth when he offered it, and pretended not to feel his left palm itch.


End file.
